


A strange twist of fate (Working title)

by theatrehobbit



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Fantasy, Fluff and Humor, Heartbreak, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:01:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theatrehobbit/pseuds/theatrehobbit
Summary: This is the tale of a bard with a complicated relationship to fate and how said fate made him a witcher's travel companion."There are a couple of things, that you do not want to find next to your horse in the morning. A hungover twink, desperatly clinging to a lute and quietly snorring, is definitly one of those things."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	A strange twist of fate (Working title)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people out there :)  
> This is the first witcher fanfiction I post (and my first one posted on this platform in general), I hope someone might enjoy it. While reading, please take into consideration that I am not a native english speaker, so some langue or Grammar mistakes might accure. Also, I have only seen the Netflix show until now, at this point this is my only source material.

In the middle of a small village, located right between a dark and mysterious forest and a mountain, was a tavern. This tavern was not a very noble one, but good enough for the locals, that just wanted to drink mead, beer or ale. The narrow room was poorly lit and the air was so thick, you could probably cut it with a knife. A mixture of smells filled the air, not very pleasant ones to be honest. From the corner near the fireplace, the patrons of the tavern could hear the voice of a stranger. The brown haired bard was not from here, but nobody wanted to listen to his jibbering for long enough to find out, why somebody would deliberately come to this village. Nobody really paid attention to him sitting in the corner, strumming his lute , producing an melancholic melody. He murmured a story about heartbreak and feeling lost, but his words found no hearing. “You wanna keep up this depressing shit or actually play something nice?”, a tall man called out. He sat near to the bard and had been listening to him sinking into self pity for the last half hour. The bard gathered himself up, stood up and started singing a less deep song. The light-hearted song about a farmer's daughter, that was filled with innuendos, caught much more attention inside the tavern and some of the patrons started joining in with the singing. They laughed and some even tossed the bard some coins. Later that evening, as he just started taking a break and was leaning onto the counter, sipping on a pint of mead, somebody tapped on his shoulder. “I’ll continue in a minute my dear friend, just let me moisten my vocal cords.”, he answered without even turning around. “What a coincidence to meet you here, Jaskier.”, a painfully familiar voice spoke behind him. As he turned around, he stared into the face of an old friend. Well, not really a friend, more of an old acquaintance. Some might even call they young man, that stood behind the bard an enemy. Long story short, they both wanted the same girl some time ago and well, Jaskier was not the one succeeding. Meeting him here was just further proof for Jaskiers thesis, that fate did not really like him. He was literally a month long travel away from his hometown, sipping on sweet honey wine, just minding his own business and the last person on earth that he wanted to meet was this guy. This man was a prig, that did not have half of Jaskier’s talent (and, in his humble opinion, beauty) but probably twelve times his wealth. Jaskier tried not to appear affected by the presence of him. “What are you doing ‘round here?”, left his lips as he tried to keep in all the swear words swirling around in his head. The bard always had a hard time keeping in such things even in a sober state of mind, you can imagine how much he struggled after the wine had loosen his tongue. “Oh, haven’t you heard?” Jaskier hated the arrogant undertone in his voice, he had hated this long before he even thought about girls at all, when they were still little children. The other man did not even wait for an answer. “The lord has put out a bounty for a monster, that is living in this forest. I’ll catch it, of course”, he explained his plans to Jaskier, who looked out for the barmaid to refill his pint. “And you’re still all about this singing thing?”, the man asked, scornfully ogling the battered lute, tied to the bards back. Jaskier really wanted to come up with a witty answer on the spot, but a loud noise catched everybody’s attention. It seemed, like some patrons of the tavern had a little..difference in opinions. Being the annoying jock that he was, the old acquaintance saw it as his responsibility to try to solve the meele, resulting in getting lured into the fist fight. This was the moment, were Jaskier left the tavern for good. 

He definitely did not earn enough money in the tavern, to rent a room in an inn for the night. Normally, he had just found a barmaiden or something, to spend the night with, but the circumstances did prevent that. Therefore, he was walking through the village alone, thinking about what to do now. Slowly but surely, he got tired. Sleeping on the street was not really a possibility he considered, but in this moment he was very desperate. Fortunately, he saw a stable, near an inn. In the absence of better alternatives, he snuck into the stable, making himself at home in a box, next to a brown mare on a pile of hay. Tiredly, he closed his eyes, hugged his lute and fell asleep shortly after. At this point of his journey on becoming a legendary bard (he had not found a place for that up to this point) he got used to sleeping on uncomfortable surfaceses. It was not until the next morning, when the owner of the mare wanted to look for her, that he woke up.


End file.
